The Moment Explodes
by a-million-dreams-are-in-me
Summary: One Shot: Jemma is struggling to cope with the aftermath of the finale, feeling distraught about Fitz's condition and suffocated by the pity of her team mates. The reappearance of former agent, Grant Ward does nothing to aid the situation. [This may well develop into a series of one shots, which is why I haven't marked it as complete.]


Skye met her on the runway.

"How is he?" she asked. It was becoming a common question which Jemma was running out of ways to answer. She plastered her best smile on her face. It was the same smile she so often used to reassure her mother of her safety, which currently seemed like a laughable thought.

"He's…" Her usual, well-rehearsed answer trailed off as she met Skye's eyes. She closed her eyes and sighed gently, her shoulders drooping and the smile disappeared as quickly as she'd summoned it. "He's the same. He's always the same. It's like he's stuck and there is nothing I can do to help him. I just wish there was something I could do…"

"We all wish that."

Skye wrapped her in a warm hug, which Jemma in equal parts appreciated and resented. She was sick and tired of the pity in everyone's eyes, the way they tiptoed around her. They all thought she was about to break apart, when really she felt like she wanted to explode.

She had to remind herself constantly that he was their friend too. They were suffering too. Jemma bit her lip. She didn't want to cry. She'd cried enough to last a lifetime.

Skye pulled away from the hug with a solemn expression of her face.

"There's something I need to tell you. And you are not going to like it," Skye began to explain as they boarded the Bus.

"What are you talking about?"

"Believe me I am just as pissed off about this as you will be, but you need to understand…." As she rounded the corner, Jemma caught sight of just what Skye was talking about.

Grant Ward was standing a few feet in front of her. He was handcuffed, she noted. She didn't move. She couldn't move.

"Simmons," Skye tried to get her attention. "Jemma."

Jemma didn't turn around. She held her gaze, staring right into Ward's eyes.

"What is he doing here?" She enquired slowly, striving to keep her breathing even.

"Coulson says he needs him, I told him that it wasn't-" Jemma whirled around, cutting Skye off before she could finish.

"He tried to kill me Skye! He almost killed…" She still couldn't bring herself to utter his name. Skye couldn't answer. She just looked at her, eyes full of sympathy.

It was Ward who broke the silence.

"And I'm sorry."

Jemma turned slowly, an incredulous smile spreading across her face.

"You're sorry?"

Jemma Simmons was not an aggressive person. Sure, she would defend herself if she had to, and to save someone she cared about she would do just about anything, but she was a pacifist at heart. As a general rule, her inherent sense of logic overruled any desire as primitive as violence.

Grant Ward, apparently, was the exception to this rule.

Before anyone, Jemma included, knew what was happening, her open palm connected with his face. She had no idea how she had closed the gap between them, and in all honesty she didn't care.

"Simmons, I-" He began, but quickly shut his mouth as she raised her hand again. Just as her hand was about meet his cheek for a second time, Jemma felt another strong hand wrap around her wrist, gently, but firmly.

Without moving her eyes from Grant's, she flexed her hand, but she didn't try to pull away. She realised she was trembling. Normally she would have apologised profusely, and launched into a spiel about the effects of the adrenaline hormone on heart rate, muscle contractions and neurone activity. But today she didn't need an excuse. She didn't need to hide behind her intelligence. For once she just let herself feel what she was feeling.

"Didn't you try to stop her?" a voice asked Skye.

"Why on earth would I stop her? She has every right. We all do."

The hand holding her wrist pulled her around, until she was face to face with Coulson. Unusually, she was not fazed by this altercation with a superior.

"With all due respect, sir, but what the bloody hell is he doing here?" Coulson winced at the venom in her voice.

"Jemma, I am so sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this, but I don't have a choice. We need to make sure that every branch of HYDRA is eradicated, and Ward has information that can help us." She rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right. They both knew she would never sacrifice the safety of others for petty revenge. "I know you feel helpless right now, but hurting Ward isn't going to help."

"I'm sorry about Fitz." Ward said simply. Jemma kept looking at Coulson, in an effort to keep herself calm.

"Don't you dare say his name," she ordered, struggling not to scream at him.

"I know that you're angry, Jemma, and you have every right to be. Hate me as much as you want, but have you ever thought that maybe it's not just me you're angry at. Maybe you're angry with yourself." She turned to look at him.

"Go to hell."

"I'm pretty sure I'm on my way. But I'm right, aren't I? You're furious with yourself because you can't work out what to feel, now that you know."

"Go and fuck yourself," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"You know he's in love with you." It wasn't a question.

Jemma froze. Skye gasped. Coulson closed his eyes and covered his mouth with his free hand.

And then the moment exploded.

Jemma ripped herself from Coulson's grasp, knocking him off balance in the process. Before she knew it her fist connected with Ward's jaw. He clearly hadn't been expecting the level of force she was capable of, because despite bracing himself for the impact, he found himself on the floor. To be more accurate, he found himself on the floor with Jemma straddling his chest. He closed his eyes just before she delivered the second blow. He didn't try to fight back. What was the point?

Jemma barely knew what she was doing. She was aware that her fists should be burning but she couldn't feel the pain. What she did know was that the anger and adrenaline were suppressing all that grief and heartache she had been struggling with for so long. So she kept hitting him. She kept hitting him even when a pair of arms encircled her waist and wrenched her off of him. She struggled and flailed and screamed bloody murder, but there was no way she could escape.

"This isn't what Fitz would want," May said simply into her ear.

She immediately collapsed and May's strong grip softened into a comforting embrace. Jemma tried to wipe away some of the tears staining her face, but the salt stung the laceration of her knuckles, so she just let them fall. She stayed like that for some time, taking comfort in one of the most unlikely people. Eventually she managed to slow her breathing and regain some semblance of composure.

She raised her head to see Skye and Coulson hauling Ward to his feet. His face was full of something she had never seen him express before. It was remorse. He looked up and met her eyes.

Without warning she hurled herself back towards him. May attempted to drag her back, but this time Jemma was in control of herself. She stopped in front of him, her face mere inches from the bruises starting to form on his. She stared into his eyes, ensuring she had his full attention.

"He can't love me," she said slowly, enunciating each and every word so they would sink in. "He can't even remember who I am."


End file.
